Lunar Spear
by Caramel Tigress
Summary: Slightly AU and maybe some OOC. Yugi visits the new museum exhibit for a history project, but what he originally thought would be a simple tour turns into a nightmarish window through time. Slight YamixYugi. Please read and review!
1. Prologue

**_Yu-Gi-Oh!_ belongs to its rightful owners. The following is merely fan-made. **

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* * *

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I hate the moon.

I've hated the moon as long as I can remember. Its weak light, its ugly gray color, its cowardice to only show up in the night…everything about it makes me sick.

My name is Yugi.

Life was pretty normal despite my extreme dislike. It didn't occur to me that after sixteen years of hating the moon, I'd figure out why I was like this.

It will haunt me for the rest of my life.

* * *

**Author's Note**: It's been so long since I wrote an actual YGO fanfic. After all the fanfics I wrote before (mostly bad puzzleshipping stories), I never thought I'd be able to do it again. Wish me luck!


	2. Chapter 1

**_Yu-Gi-Oh!_ belongs to its rightful owners. The following is merely fan-made. **

* * *

Golden rays fell upon the busy city of Domino. Through the hustle and bustle, cool air was inhaled and warm light was felt by the heavy-minded, metropolitan peoples. The streets ran with business and leisure, adulthood and adolescence. Some ran, some walked. Some skipped, some dragged their feet. God forbid on this paradisiacal day, someone would sit down or stay indoors! Who in their right mind could avoid such a time? There was no silence. There was only laughter, chatter, and good old banter. A swear word would be tossed around once or twice, but it only broke the afternoon calm for only a second.

Speaking of those who ran, two youngsters dashed from one end of a sidewalk to the next. A man and a woman, to be precise. The man was the very icon of innocence, with his large lavender eyes, boyish face, and short stature. You could easily mistake the young man for a child though his clothes and hair said otherwise. No child would have unruly, tri-colored hair, with jagged bangs sticking out every which-way. He wore a brown backpack, a pair of slim blue pants, a blue jacket, a white dress shirt underneath, and plain sneakers. The woman was a few inches taller than the man, but she was still delicate: sapphire eyes, earthy hair, and a beautiful body. A folded blue skirt and pink jacket covered her as she ran alongside her male friend. The man was in the lead and held the woman's hand tightly behind him. They heaved heavy breaths with each step they took. "You just _had_ to remember this at the last minute?" the woman gasped.

"I didn't think our project was due this week," the man shouted frantically. "I had a history paper to work on!"

"Next time, get your stuff in order!"

The trip down the sidewalk kept its fast pace for a few more minutes. Finally, the lead man slowed down to a halt and gasped for air. The woman's sprint died as she slowed, collapsing on the ground for some rest. The man inhaled some more air before looking up to the building before him. The staircase was great. They led to an even greater structure, giving off an ancient atmosphere with its marble pillars. The sign in front of the man read _"Domino City Museum."_

The man smiled. "I think we made it in time." He looked over his shoulder. "You okay, Téa?"

"I've been better," the brunette coughed.

The man turned around and, taking her hands, hoisted Téa up and lead her up the stairs. It took their last ounce of strength to climb to the top: their destination. Upon reaching the museum doors, the two were exhausted. They crawled to the nearest bench and sprawled into the seat. "That's the last time I ever climb those stairs," Téa groaned. The man grunted in agreement. It was a while since he last worked out, after all.

The man jerked up suddenly. Did he hear what he thought he heard? A familiar voice stood out among the soft murmurs in the hall. It came from further down the road. Not that far, but still a distance considering the man's previous trek. Briefly recovering from before, the man stood up from his spot and followed the voice. The voice belonged to a man at the front desk. He bore a striking resemblance to the man, except his eyes cast a tense gaze on the dollars before him. His hair bore a few more lightning-shaped bangs in comparison to the other's. The man waved slightly. "Yami?"

The clerk looked up. His eyes widened. "Yugi?" he exclaimed.

"I didn't know you worked here."

"I've been here for the past few weeks." Yami gestured to his black, _Domino Museum_ button-up shirt. "Is anything I can help you with?"

"I just came for the class project," Yugi answered.

"You're taking classes in the summer?"

Yugi's nervous chuckle was enough to answer his question. Leaning toward the front of the desk, Yami pulled out a brochure and passed it over to the other. "Here's a map of the museum. You should be able to find something that can help."

After a "thank you" and a paying of tickets, Yugi ran back to Téa and slowly led her through the museum. The two walked past the front desk. The short male continued walking while the taller female glanced over. "Wasn't that Yami?" she asked.

"Yeah. Didn't think I'd see him here."

"Me neither. So, any exhibits that look cool?"

Yugi opened up the brochure and read the map. The list of exhibits being held was at the bottom, along with a glossary of symbols and their meanings. Téa pointed to the map. "How about the Ancient Rome exhibit? That one looks cool."

"It does sound pretty interesting," Yugi commented. His eyes darted to the left of the brochure, where the list of exhibits was printed. Ancient Rome, Asian History, and the Evolution of Man…surely, they were good topics to show at a museum.

But something caught his eye. Between the descriptions for Asian History and Evolution was a curious read: the Ancient Egypt exhibit. Tales of old Pharaohs would be told, lost artifacts of the Nile would be revealed, and—even more intriguing—a recent discovery that shook historians to their core. Yugi pointed to the Ancient Egypt exhibit. "How about this one?"

Téa looked over the map location. "The Egyptian one? Sure."

The two charted their path on the map and then, in excitement, made their way through the museum.

* * *

"Many of us are familiar with the great Egyptian kings."

A powerful voice echoed through the great halls over the shushed conversations of tourists. Standing before a band of customers was a deeply tanned woman with long, raven hair. Her deep blue eyes and ominous voice rang through the walls and the people around her. Yugi and Téa stood among the curious customers, listening intently to the tour guide's words. She extended her arms and gestured to the plaques and antiques around her. "Ramses, Tutankhamen…we have grown up with their names and stories."

"However, there is one king whose story has never been told. According to our records, there was one Pharaoh who ruled over Egypt, but vanished suddenly from his kingdom. No one knew where he vanished to…until now. Here, at Domino Museum, you will see the remains of the king who fled from history, the monarch who left his throne…

"…The Nameless Pharaoh."

The tour guide stepped aside and allowed the tourists to look around the room. Many old, Egyptian vases lay around the area, plaques and hieroglyphics hanging on the walls. Vast histories of kings, from Khufu to Imhotep, adorned the chamber with photos of their tombs and pictures. But no one paid attention to those. No, the tourists circled around the glass case in the middle of the room. They murmured with curiosity and surprise at the sight. Some gestured to children that there was a king in there. Within the casing were the age-old remains of a long forgotten man, his corpse curled in the fetal position. A gold plaque sat on a podium next the casing with the words "Nameless Pharaoh" engraved on it.

_This king is shrouded in mystery. There are only two hieroglyphs depicting his reign: one of him sitting in his throne and another detailing his disappearance. Strangely, the king's name was not recorded in the hieroglyphs. He was found only with a broken spear, leaving historians the idea that a rebellion forced the Pharaoh to flee._

_The Nameless Pharaoh was found near the heart of the Sinai Desert. _

Yugi glanced over the podium to the body in the casing. "Poor guy."

Téa, who stood next to him, walked over and looked into the casing. "At least he's being remembered here…"

"Yeah." Stepping aside for others to read the plaque, the man walked over to a bench and reached into his backpack. He pulled out a notebook and a pencil. The project only required students to go to see an exhibit and then write a comparison of what they learned in class to what they saw in the museum. Already aware of the other kings, Yugi adamantly noted the nameless Pharaoh. If he could just sort everything from memory and then type it into an essay, he could finish the project in less than three days.

"_I'm sorry."_

Yugi stopped. Did someone just say something? He looked up at the tourists that finally dispersed from the center, but no one was near him, nor did any of them look upset. Téa was at the other side of the room, where a brief history of Tutankhamen was written. Nothing seemed out of place.

"_I'm sorry."_

The voice spoke again. It was like a hushed whisper, airy with no distinguishing tone, as if the wind itself were remorseful. Suddenly, the voice was no longer a whisper. It was a cry. Yugi thrust his hands to his ears. It grew louder. Louder. Louder! How horrifying it was!

"_I'm sorry!"_

"_I'm so sorry!"_

A shadow loomed over him. Yugi felt the cool patch and, opening his eyes, spotted Téa's brown shoes. Her lips shaped words, but nothing came out of them. All he could hear was those words.

"_I'm sorry!"_

"_I'm so sorry!"_

The room burned, the tourists blurred, and the ground vanished. The words hammered his skull like drums in chaotic rhythm. His ears hurt. His eyes watered. His head ached. There was only that voice.

Only those words.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Holy crap, I didn't think I'd be able to write this. I might not've written it right, but still, it's an accomplishment. The story's pretty standard, but this came to my mind and I had to get it out. I hope I can complete the rest of the story and I hope it's to your liking. Thank you so much for reading and please leave some good writing tips so I can improve! :D


	3. Chapter 2

**_Yu-Gi-Oh!_ belongs to its rightful owners. The following is merely fan-made. **

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* * *

**

"Yugi! _Yugi_!"

The air was silent and cool. The ground was even, solid concrete. The only sounds that could be heard were the passing cars and distant conversations of pedestrians.

"Yugi, it's okay! There's nothing here!"

Yugi opened his eyes. There was no carpet, green walls, or artifacts surrounding him. There was only a staircase leading down, now painted orange by the setting sun. He could clearly see Téa in front of him on the lower step. He uncovered his ears, only to hear Cars the sound of rubber wheels and innocent passerby. How comforting they were. "Where am I?" he muttered.

"Outside the museum entrance. You ran out of the exhibit like _that_." Téa snapped her fingers. "Don't worry, I got your backpack and stuff." She slung the baggage off and handed it to her friend before helping the lad onto his feet. "What happened there?"

"I'm not sure," Yugi responded. "Just wasn't feeling well." That was a partial lie. He knew exactly _what_ was going on, but not _how_ or _why_. Aside from that, who would possibly believe he heard a voice while everyone else heard nothing? But he had to ask. "Did you hear anything in there?"

"Only the other people in the room. Why?"

Yugi turned away. "…nothing."

Téa glanced at the watch around her wrist. "The museum's gonna close in about ten minutes. You could go back in and get some last-minute notes if you want."

The man turned to face the museum entrance. A grand entrance but now, it was only foreboding. "…I think I'm set."

The two stepped down the stairs and onto the sidewalk. Yugi dared not to look back.

* * *

Night fell on Domino City. The dark sky was adorned with stars, each one shining at its brightest. Not a single child was out at this hour: any who stepped outside would have been dragged back indoors. An empty street was glorified by the starlight and the streetlights lined down its path. Further down that road was a small, yellow store with a green door. The words "Game Shop" hung above the entrance in red letters, along with a "closed" sign on the door's window. The very first room of the store was an ordinary game shop: glass cases, boxes of trading cards, maybe a board game or two. Beyond the cashier's desk was another door—but surprisingly, it was not the storage room. Rather, it was a hall leading to a living room. Yes, the game shop was also a home.

The smell of fresh dumplings poured out of the kitchen and through the building. From the kitchen, a woman stepped out. It was easy to tell from her frame and age that she was a mother, from her loving eyes to her careful hands. She tread cautiously through the halls. With a plate of fresh dumplings, she dared not to misstep. Her feet put-putted the stairs and on the hardwood floor of the second floor. She stopped at a door. Carefully, she shifted one hand to hold the dumplings and another to turn the doorknob. "Yugi, I brought you some dumplings," she said playfully.

The room was quite small with a simple set-up. The bed was one the left of the room, the desk and laptop at the right, and closet close to the door. A drawer sat right next to the bed with a deck of cards. Yugi rolled between the desk and the drawer in his computer chair, managing a set of cards in his hand. He saw the woman at the door. "Sweet," he said with a smile. "Thanks, Mom."

The mother set the plate down at her son's desk. Her eyes darted to the window. "Oh, how beautiful!"

Yugi looked up. Following his mother's gaze, he turned to the window. To the night sky. Outside in the heavens was a bright moon. "It's almost full," the mother sighed. "The next few nights are going to be beautiful." She spotted the open notebook and laptop on the desk. "Be sure not to procrastinate too long."

"I won't." Yugi, at the drawer, put the cards into a small, blue case and rolled back to the laptop. "By the way," he said. "Do you know how long has that Egyptian exhibit been open?"

The mother held a hand to her chin in thought. "...I think it opened two weeks ago. Must be around then."

Yugi thanked his mother before she left him with his project. The son looked at his notebook: only three notes were there on the Nameless Pharaoh. He sighed. In truth, he did not want to work on the paper. He did not even want to think about it. Whenever the exhibit popped into his mind, all he could think of was that torturous whisper. Those two words: "I'm sorry."

Something struck him. Maybe it was from his memory twisting the incident, but the more he thought of the voice, the more he realized something was odd about it. Dare I say it, _familiar_. But whose voice was it? The only person he was familiar with in that room was Téa, and the voice sounded nothing like her. Or better yet, why "I'm sorry"? Did something happen between him and whoever owned that voice? If so, what was it? And who?

Yugi groaned and leaned in his chair. His eye turned to where the window lay uncovered. There was the moon. Oh, how lonely she was, and yet she sat comfortably in the darkness. Innocent, lovely, shy…

The son violently shut the blinds.

* * *

The next day was pleasant, but not the same as the one before. This day came with gray skies and heavy rain. The sidewalk went from a pale yellowish gray to a damp brown. Very few people were outside, but the city was now spotted with umbrellas. Small, large, pink, blue, you name it. All kinds of umbrellas were there. One umbrella in particular was a dark shade of blue. Underneath it was little Yugi, clad in a black jacket and jeans. In his pocket was the Domino Museum brochure, slightly wet from the rain. New, red ink circled an exhibit on the sheet.

His steps slowed. The staircase to the museum was in his sight, but something was wrong. A series of men in black coats and black umbrellas crowded around the base step, and Yugi swore he spotted a yellow strip. He walked closer to the stairs and upon a closer look, he was right. It was yellow police tape.

"Excuse me, young man, you can't be here."

A tower of a man stood over the tri-color-haired boy. The taller man was massive. His tuxedo and strong body, though hidden under his clothes, were enough to intimidate even the most fearless criminal. His eyes glared through his sunglasses. Yugi tried his best not to laugh at his pointed, brown hair. "This area is only open to authorities."

"But what happened?" Yugi asked innocently.

"You should watch the news more, kid." The tall man continued after the insult. "Someone came in and trashed the museum last night. One of the exhibits was trashed."

Shock took over Yugi's face. "Which exhibit?"

"The Egyptian one. Now scram."

In compliance, Yugi turned and left the scene. His feet sloshed through puddles as he walked back home, his eyes not focused on the deeper bodies of water. The break-in at the museum was just a coincidence, was it not?

…was it?


	4. Chapter 3

**_Yu-Gi-Oh!_ belongs to its rightful owners. The following is merely fan-made. **

* * *

The game shop echoed with the pitter-patter of rain. A single bulb lit up the tiny store like a baby sun, casting small shadows on the floor. An old man, in his late 60s perhaps, slouched over the counter, tapping his finger impatiently for a customer. His wild gray hairs were held back by an orange bandana, though his beard was free of restraint. He was quite short due to his age and, maybe also due to his age, he wore overalls. A bit hilarious, when you compare it to today's fashion.

Behind the counter, Yugi sat in a folding chair. He held a newspaper in his hands as his eyes scanned the front page.

* * *

**_August 13, 2011_**

DOMINO CITY – The Egyptian exhibit at the Domino City Museum was torn apart on August 12.

Employees at the museum say that a blackout occurred in the building around 8:30 PM. When employees went to the basement, they found the fuse box was smashed. It took the employees nearly half an hour to fix the fuse box. Upon returning to their shifts, employees found the Egyptian exhibit destroyed.

"I couldn't believe what I saw," describes employee Odion Ishtar. "There was glass everywhere, and the Nameless Pharaoh centerpiece was utterly destroyed. We couldn't even recognize the pile of rubble on the floor as the king's body."

Upon further investigation, a fire axe was discovered to be missing from the premises. Officials believe that the intruder used the fire axe to break the fuse box and then demolish the exhibit.

The suspect and the weapon still remain at large.

* * *

"Hey, Grandpa, did you see this?" Yugi gestured the paper to the elder.

The old man took the print and skimmed through the article. "Which one?"

"The one in the lower right corner."

The grandfather skimmed through the news. He thrust the paper on the floor. "Kids these days!" he shouted. "They never know a precious artifact when they see one!" The old man kept ranting, but Yugi toned most of it out. It was normal for the old man to get upset about "kids these days", especially when it involved deviance. And knowing his grandfather's love of history, this hit the elder's boiling point.

A bell dinged.

The old man turned to the door. "Welcome to the Mutou Game Shop, how may I help you?"

Yugi turned his glance to the door. Standing there was an ordinary man in a white raincoat, his jeans now a deep, dark blue from the rain. The store owner's grandson did not pay much attention to the customer until he removed his hood.

Black, red, and yellow hair.

Yami bowed to Grandfather Mutou. "I just needed to get out of the rain."

"Yami! I didn't recognize you in that raincoat!" the grandfather chimed. "Oh, c'mon in before you catch a death of cold."

"Thank you, sir." The taller young man spotted the grandson. His smile vanished.

"Yugi, could you lead your friend into the house? I have to man the store."

Taken by surprise, Yugi nodded. He picked up the tossed newspaper and opened the door to the house, leading Yami inside. The drenched visitor shook his shoes off and stepped onto the hardwood floor. Not an easy task while wearing wet socks, but he managed to keep his balance. The living room was plain-looking. A table, a sofa, chair, a television at the front, it was like every other living room. Yugi gestured the other to sit down. "Need anything?"

"I'm all right. Thanks, though." Yami slowly sank into the sofa.

A silence fell between the two. The downpour of rain covered any slight noises the two made, if they ever grunted or whispered in that while. The shorter male kept his gaze on the visitor. Through his mind ran memories of this "friend." Questions he wanted to ask, accusations he had for the other….but in the end, he could not say them. Instead, he walked over with the newspaper in hand. "I heard your workplace was attacked."

Yami noticed the newspaper. "It was," he said. "I was there when it happened."

"Really?"

"I didn't see the guy who trashed the exhibit, though. I was in the changing room at the time."

Yugi nodded slightly. He stepped backward into the chair perpendicular to the sofa. "I hope the museum is open tomorrow. I was going to do my project on the Egyptian exhibit."

The visitor jerked up. "You were?"

"Originally." Memories of the voices from the other day flooded his mind. He shoved them aside. "Thinking about doing it on Ancient Rome instead."

"Good choice." Yami fell back into the sofa. "The museum may reopen tomorrow," he said. "My boss told me the investigation's only limited to the Egyptian exhibit. Other than that, the other exhibits are open to the public."

"Nice." Yugi threw the newspaper onto the table. Another silence took over the two, but only for a few seconds. The childish man reached for the TV remote and turned to the other. "You wanna stay a while?"

Yami smiled. "I'd be glad to."

* * *

Sunday morning carried remnants of Saturday's rain. The roads were still damp, colored either a moist, dark brown or a wet onyx. Patches of yellow rustled and danced on a warm breeze, along with a few cigarette butts along the way. The sun shone through the clouds and into the open, Domino Museum doors. The halls were busy, but not as crowded as two days ago. Anyone in the building, employee or tourist, walked cautiously across the marble flooring. Down one path was an exhibit painted a marvelous white. Acrylic pillars embraced in green vines decorated the room, a beautiful sky and a grand sea painted behind them. Plaques on podiums stood around the room with Roman artifacts and images of grand leaders, providing histories of the powerful empire.

Yugi sat on a large, white cube at the side of the room with a notebook in his lap. He held the book by its spine and flipped through the pages from back to the front—and smiled. Two pages of notes. It was early for him. Around ten in the morning, last he checked. If he could successfully organize the new material into a good paper in less than a day, he was set.

His supplies in his backpack, the lavender-eyed man made his way out of the Ancient Rome exhibit. The hall was almost empty, save his new entry. Only a young mother walked past, and she was on her way to the exit. Yugi stood still for a moment. He had a full day ahead of him for the project, but there were still many an hour in a day. A little stroll around the museum would not take long. Pulling out the old museum map from his pocket, he took off in the opposite direction of the exit. He walked past some smaller but still informative shows along the way. The larger exhibits were spaced out around the building, so it would take a while for the adolescent to reach them.

Yugi stopped. His eyes darted to his left.

It was the Ancient Egyptian exhibit. Yellow police tape screamed with the text "DO NOT ENTER", but they could not ward off any wandering eyes. The room was a disaster. Shards of glass lay scattered on the floor with specks of ancient brown resting among them. A broken spear sat at the wall left from the entrance, where surprisingly none of the other items were damaged. Yugi took notice of a horrendous pile of what looked like snapped sticks and torn fabrics.

The axed remains of the Nameless Pharaoh.

Yugi carefully leaned forward, just inches over the taping. Where were the authorities? Surely, it was wrong to leave a crime scene unattended…

Cries.

The boy gripped the wall. He pushed himself back and away from the Egyptian-decorated room, turning his head left and right for the source of the sounds. But there was no one.

The crying continued. Yugi looked toward the room before him. "No way," he muttered. But poor boy, he was right indeed. He tiptoed to the crime scene—and with each step, the sobs grew louder. Not at a murderous volume like before. Similar to that, but the sounds of today were softer. Yugi leaned over the police tape again.

The sobs faded, and silence held the moment. Had he imagined it?

Something gripped his leg. The man yelped in surprise and fell backward. His eyes fell on his left ankle.

There was nothing there.

The grasp on his leg climbed up his skin. Yugi kicked his leg repeatedly while failing to stand. The hold on his limb only gripped tighter. He felt warm fingers clawing into his flesh. And they climbed.

Higher.

Higher.

Higher.

The nails dug deep into Yugi's stomach. His eyes closed shut from the pain. How excruciating it was! Fear was rampant in his veins. His legs were numb. His arms frozen. His eyes watered…

He was helpless.

* * *

A number of people walking past the museum watched a rush of black, yellow, and red dash down the staircase. All that was left in the trail was fear.

* * *

**Author's Note**: I have the feeling my writing's style starting to wear thin on this fanfic. I might try to take a break for a few days until I can recharge. I'm quite surprised with how many reviews this has gotten so far. Okay, five to six reviews isn't a lot, but I didn't think this story would get any interest (I thought the story was standard). Thank you so much for reading and please review! :D


	5. Chapter 4

**_Yu-Gi-Oh! _belongs to its rightful owners. The following is merely fan-made.**

* * *

5:30 AM.

Yugi registered the numbers on the clock. His eyes were heavy and his body ached. The covers of the bed did not shield him from the world he once knew. Nor did it save him from his memories. Recollections of that morning flashed behind his eyelids. The tearing at his leg, the remorseful sobs…they shattered the lullaby of silence he wished for.

His mind kept replaying the moment. The sensation of nails digging into his skin chilled the man, shook him to his very core, sent fear rippling through his heart. There was the police tape again. Behind it, the exhibit. The cries. The grabbing of Yugi's leg. It was all a nightmare.

Light fell upon the man's bed. He lifted his eyes toward the window over him, an opening in the ceiling to the heavens. Dark clouds drifted along the starry night like a curtain and revealed the nocturne queen. The moon. Yugi fell back into the mattress and growled. "Mocking me, huh?" He could feel the moonlight upon him, even with his eyes closed. His heart boiled with rage. Would the moon ever leave him alone?

The digits of the clock changed. 5:36 AM. The man sighed angrily and threw the blanket onto the floor where the lunar star could not see him. He curled into the fabric and closed his eyes, hoping to get some peace.

* * *

A shadow came from the fog. The figure stood perfectly still and not once revealed its face in the mist. The shadow began to walk. It came forward ever so slowly. Then through the fog, the figure stopped. And the clouds parted.

Yugi blinked in surprise. "…Yami?"

Indeed, it was. The estranged companion stood over the shorter one, his gaze never wavering. Yugi could not move or turn away. Something was wrong.

Yami tilted the other's chin up with his finger. Then, to Yugi's surprise, he leaned in—and caressed the innocent one's lips with his own.

Yugi's stomach churned. He turned his head sharply away to the right, pushing Yami aside with his left arm. The taller male grabbed the other's wrist, wrapped his arm around the other, and kissed Yugi once more. More passionately this time. Yugi failed to break free, under the spell of Yami's lips and tongue. He could feel himself falling deeper and deeper into the passion. In desperation, Yugi raised his right arm.

There was something sharp in his hand.

Yugi gasped.

His fist and the weapon charged toward Yami's head.

_"GAH!"_

The fog was gone. Yugi found himself slouched over a desk. The blackboard further ahead was covered by a screen, catching the light of a projector. Adolescents around his age looked over their shoulders or turned to their left at the noise. But Yugi's throat was the least bit scratchy: he did not scream. Nor was it from the movie on the projector. It was then he noticed Téa shaking next to him, her face plastered with surprise and her chest rising and falling with her breath. "…you okay?" she muttered shakily.

Yugi nodded, catching his breath. "I'm fine."

Téa leaned inward. "You sure?" she questioned. "You rarely fall asleep in class."

"I'm sure. I'm sorry for scaring you."

The brunette patted her male friend on the shoulder and watched the movie once more. Yugi knew she was still worried about him, but who was he to make such a pretty girl frown? He reached into his pocket for his cell phone. 5:41 PM. Just a few minutes before his class finished.

But of all the times he needed an extra minute, it was now. The item he held in his dream…he saw it before.

The broken spear.

* * *

With the sun drawing into sleep, the skies were a deep orange, casting the city of Domino into a dim state of lighting. The back of the Domino City Museum was quite plain, what you would usually expect from the back of a building to look like. A few doors, two or three maybe, was spaced apart and lined against the wall, leading to an almost empty parking lot. Yami stepped out from the farthest door on the left with a pair of keys in his hand. One stood out from his fingers while the other dangled on the ring. He wore a short-sleeved, white dress shirt under a black vest and blue jeans with a bag hanging from his shoulder. From the relaxed look on his face, you could tell his work shift had just ended. He took a deep breath of the dusk, summer air and walked toward a metal rack, empty except for one bike.

"Yami! Wait!"

A small figure of a man appeared across the parking lot. Yami watched the man run across the asphalt toward him. As the stranger drew closer, Yami recognized the short stature, large lilac eyes, and wildly colored hair. "Yugi!" He ran to the other and held him as he panted. "What's wrong?"

Yugi's chest ached, his feet burning from the run. From his school to the museum was a lengthy walk, but to _sprint_ that? No one in their right mind would take up such a task! Yugi, however, had no choice but to do so. Sweat dropped from his forehead to the asphalt as he held himself up with his hands on his knees. "I need," he panted. "To get into the museum."

"I'm sorry, Yugi, but you're a little late," Yami said. "It's past six."

"You don't understand. I really…_really_…need to get inside."

"Why?"

Yugi lifted his head—and froze. He knew Yami was leaning over him, but he had no idea how _close_ he was to him. He could feel the blood rushing to his face. Even though the museum employee was only more than half a foot away, those purple eyes captivated him. And those lips…

The shorter one shook away his thoughts and managed to speak. "I…left my notebook in there. I didn't realize it 'til now."

"I think it's in your backpack."

Yugi noticed that his friend was looking over his shoulder. The tired man removed a sling from one of his shoulders and found that one of the zippers was partially unzipped. His notebook stood out like a sore thumb. "Oh…" he said with shame. He put his backpack back into place. "But forget that. I need you to get me inside the museum."

"Yugi, the museum will re-open tomorrow morning. Whatever it is you need today, it can wait until tomorrow." Yami turned around to unhook his bike, but stopped. Yugi kept a tight grasp on the other's arm.

"Yami," Yugi muttered. "I'm not sure why you've been avoiding me for the past two weeks, but I _really_ need you to hear me out. Just this once."

The taller male sighed. "What is it?"

"I…" Yugi stopped. Could he really tell him? There was no way his friend would believe him. No one would.

But he had to risk it. "…I've been hearing voices."

Yami tensed. "…voices?"

"I've been hearing them ever since I came in for the project. First it was apologizing, then it was crying, then it grabbed me, then it…" Yugi calmed down. "I—I know I'm not making any sense, but please, you _have_ to believe me."

Many quiet, torturous seconds passed. The other was silent, his gaze down to the ground.

"Yami, please."

Yugi thought his friend would never answer, not even look at him again after his sudden confession. Finally, after what felt like an hour...

"Yugi," Yami muttered. "I can't let you into the museum. I'd lose my job. As for the voices…just try to ignore them."

"But…"

"It's getting dark. I'll walk you home for today. Try to get some rest."

Yugi dropped his head in defeat. He followed Yami to his bike just a few feet away. Deep down, his mind was in chaos. Tomorrow looked dark. He did not want to deal with another nightmare, another day of not knowing why his life was thrust into this mess.

Yugi saw Yami's hand. There was a key—and he remembered which door he exited.

Yami suddenly became a rag doll. His arm was jerked backward and his back made impact with the ground. Yugi dashed down the parking lot to the farthest door on the left, the key held tightly in his fist. He found the door and stuck the key into the lock. He was worried about Yami, but there was no way he could turn back. Not now.

_Click_.

Yugi immediately swung the door open and slammed it shut upon entering. The room was dimly lit with lockers standing against the walls and a bench sitting in the middle. Right past the bench was the door to the main halls, and placed on the bench was a flashlight.

"Yugi!" Yami shouted from the other side, his fists hammering the door. "Get out of there _now_!"

Yugi only briefly looked at the door behind him. His heart ached for hurting his friend, but he had to keep going. Catching his breath, he slipped the keys into his pocket, grabbed the flashlight, ran to the door across the room, and turned the knob.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Guess who try to take a break, but ended up writing anyway (ugh). The shonen-ai bit was awkward to write, considering it's been so long since I wrote boy-on-boy stuff. I forgot how easy it is to get two guys confused in a romance bit (they're both "he"s). Thanks for reading and please review! :D


	6. Chapter 5

**_Yu-Gi-Oh! _belongs to its respectful owners. The following is merely fan-made.**

* * *

The door did not yet open. Yugi kept his hand on the knob, but did not open the door fully. Only a crack. A pair of footsteps echoed through the slit. The boy shuddered. He ran to the museum quickly after class had ended, but he had not thought of a plan. Security guards were now patrolling the area and the cameras would catch any sort of movement. Even a mouse would be noticed. But how many guards were there? And where were the cameras placed, if there were any? The boy turned to face the door where he came in. It was surprisingly silent. He did not hear Yami leave from the other side, if he actually did so.

A patch of brown.

One of the lockers to the side was ajar. A piece of fabric stuck out from the side of the small door, old and worn out. Yugi tried the handle. It was unlocked.

In a flash, he swung the door open and out poured a large, light brown cloth. The man held it up in his hands. It was actually a large cloak. Why there was a cloak lying around, he had no idea, but Yugi needed it for this moment. He struggled with putting it on, his arms constantly poking and failing to find the sleeves. Finally, his head appeared out of the proper place. The cloak was much too big for the little one. The sleeves drooped over his hands and the hood covered the top half of his view. Perfect.

The door to the changing room opened. Darkness fell over the stairs in front of Yugi, leading up into the main hall. The stairs made a sharp turn and from there, continued upward, so the little intruder was safe from view. Cautiously and silently, he climbed up the stairs, holding the oversized cloak over his feet. The lights were dim, casting only the faintest shadows on the floor. Faint tip-taps of feet echoed slightly through the walls, but only slightly. The guard, or guard_s_, were farther down. Despite the low lighting, Yugi recognized where in the hall he was—and where his target lay.

He half-ran, half-tiptoed through the hall, crouched with one hand holding up the cloak and the other covering his face. A familiar yellow tape flashed in the corner of his eye. The police tape. Yugi carefully ducked under the strips in fear of tearing them. Strangely, the lights in the hall were dimmed but the ones here were turned off. As curious as this was, he could not waste his time with questions. He turned on the flashlight and cast the beam throughout the room.

Then by the leftmost wall.

The broken spear.

Yugi sighed in relief. He reached down and held it in his free hand. "Now to get out of here…"

Static.

Yugi froze. Outside the Egyptian room, further down the hall, the sound of beeping and static rang. He could hear it through the wall.

"Panik, we have a code 1-74 in the E.G. room, please take a look."

The footsteps grew louder. Terrified, the cloaked man crawled as silently as he could to the darkest corner, close to the entrance. Only a podium with an Egyptian jar protected him now.

A shadow grew on the floor into the Egyptian exhibit. It was an absurdly tall shadow, and with the spiked hair and almost beast-like appearance, it sent shivers through little Yugi. It stood still in front of the police tape, turning its head from one side of the room to the other. The shadow kept its head turned in Yugi's direction. The intruder's heart raced. Was he found?

The shadow raised its hand—and an antennae—to its face. "Code 1-74, my ass," it said in a raspy voice. "There's nothing here."

Static. Another voice spoke. "All right. Resume your shift."

Yugi waited until the shadow and the footsteps were completely gone. Still clinging to the spear in his cloak, the boy crawled out of the exhibit and to the changing room. He thrust the cloak back into its locker and placed the flashlight, as best as he could remember, in its former place. He looked at the weapon in his hand. The wood felt ancient in his fingers. The flint tip of the spear looked sharp and, despite probably centuries of not being used, could still prove to be a dangerous weapon. Anxiety was rampant in the boy as he felt the sharp stone. A horrifying item to hold and, let us hope, never use, but Yugi held it tightly in his fist.

The spear was his last hope.

* * *

The door between the house and the game shop closed shut. Yugi removed his shoes and made his way down the hall, his head hanging low. His eyelids fluttered between slumber and the waking world. A rhythm of footsteps shook the floor. The man recognized the voice.

"Yugi!" the mother exclaimed. "Why were you out so late?"

Yugi groaned. "I'm sorry, Mom. Had to take care of something for class…"

The mother leaned toward her son. "Are you sick?"

"I'm all right. Just tired, that's all."

Without questioning him anymore, the mother stepped aside, letting her son walk past her. Yugi was close to collapsing in the hallway, his feet dragging as he reached for the door to his room. The previous all-nighter, his short-lived nap, the long sprint, and the sudden rush of energy that earned him the museum key took a great tool on his body. He threw his backpack beside the bed and plunged into the mattress like deadweight. Before coming up to pull over the covers, he reached into his bag and pulled out the spear halves. He fell back into the mattress and let his fingers fiddle with the broken weapon.

And then it caught Yugi's eye.

On the sharp stone was a deep, dry red.

His fingers reached and felt the coloring. The red on the stone, it felt sickly under his fingertips. Worse: it struck a part in his mind he did not know existed.

A memory he did not know he carried...

* * *

**Author's Note**: Special thanks to my friend Shriez for helping me with the first bit of the chapter. I couldn't get over the fact that a museum would have guards and security cameras, and the idea of Yugi waltzing in without a plan felt a bit off. Got some suggestions from Shriez and it helped me figure out what to do. I doubt Yugi would've gotten past the cameras without being noticed. Then again, he wore an over-sized cloak...

Many thanks for reading and please review! :D


	7. Chapter 6

**_Yu-Gi-Oh!_ belongs to its rightful owners. The following is merely fan-made.**

* * *

The sands were cool under the moonlit skies. Shadows stretched and slept among the mud brown homes and the foot-padded roads. Only a few were outdoors while others stayed inside, a little candle lighting the homes, at this time of night. On a night like this, who could avoid such beauty? A soft breeze swept the area, giving nocturne comfort to those awake and those in slumber. Grains of Earth shifted ever so slightly.

Through the sandy paths, two figures strode past. Despite them both bearing a deep tan and cloths hanging from their waists, they were far from similar. One was an elderly man wearing a royal, purple hat atop of his old spiked hair. The other was another petite man, barely a few inches taller than the older one. His body many a year younger than the elder, his wild black, yellow, and red hair stood out in the moonlit night. His golden bangs swayed in the breeze as he walked alongside the older man. In his hands, he held an aged, wooden pole with a sharp flint tied to the end. The elder walked with confidence and the other in fear.

The two grew closer and closer to a large, grand palace, the doors wide and revealing the royal inhabitants to the outside. The older man rushed ahead and turned to the other. "We are here, my child," he called out. "Come now."

The boy kept his nervous pace. His childish, lilac eyes gazed upon the moon, its beautiful light falling upon him.

"Will you come?"

The boy jumped. Gripping the spear tightly in his hands, he ran after the elder and into the palace. The room was massive, fit for a king. No, a God. Vast and ablaze with many fires a-glowing, even the smooth floor emanated royalty. Gigantic pillars held the balconies at each side of the room. The balconies and the ground floor were lined with muscular men in loincloths, swords, and headdresses from the entrance to the farther end of the room. At the very end was a set of steps—about three steps, in fact, leading to a chair of gold. Atop of the throne sat a young, sturdy man. As the old man and the boy drew closer, the boy noticed the gold bracelets, rings, and the adorned the man in the seat. He bore strikingly similar looks to the boy, but this man bore an aura of confidence. His hair, also three colors and disorderly, had an extra streak of gold and his eyes—what majesty, his eyes—were a powerful shade of lavender. The eyes of the Gods, no doubt. And indeed, they were.

The old man and the boy, who placed the spear on the floor, knelt down and bowed. "Great Pharaoh," the elder asked. "Accept my apologies for disturbing you so late in the night."

The Pharaoh waved a hand at the elder's words. "Worry not, Siamon," he answered. "You are our loyal Vizier: we are used to your visits. What ails you this night?"

The boy stayed in his bowing position. He knew his grandfather was a friend of the Pharaoh's, but he did not imagine the king to be this kind. This was not the first time he heard the Pharaoh speak, but he never thought he would hear the human God's voice this close before. Deep, loud, and confident. A voice fit for Horus.

"I ask you to allow my grandson into your army," the elder said. "While the general I spoke to denied him, I thought you would reconsider."

The Pharaoh made a "hmm" of inquiry. His eyes turned to the younger visitor and an eerie silence filled the room. Without warning, he lifted his head up. What he saw shook him: the Pharaoh stood from his seat and was no longer on the steps. The boy did not hear him move. Was this also part of his godly powers?

The royal's lilac eyes scanned the boy. "Sturdy he may be," he muttered. "But he is frail. He would be a hindrance to us."

"My grandson is small for his age," the elder said. "But my lord, he only wants to follow the same path as his father. He even carries the very spear my son loved so dear."

"The spear is old. It cannot serve us. You may withdraw for the night, Siamon." The Pharaoh turned to his seat, barely giving the visitors a second thought.

The boy gripped the spear tightly in his fist. As frail as he was, his dreams of battle rushed through him. The smile on his grandfather's face, the knowledge that his father's teachings would not be in vain….

"Wait!"

The guards drew their weapons. The king looked over his shoulder, his eyes wide from shock. The boy stood on his feet with his hands gripping the spear so tightly, it shook. The direct gaze between the Pharaoh and the boy scared him, his legs shaking from his fear. "My King," he said, his voice quivering. "I know I am weak and not fit to serve you, but it is my father's will for me to fight for you and Egypt. I will not let his last wish go unfulfilled."

Waves of the boy's declaration echoed through the palace walls. The boy could feel the tears flowing from behind his eyes, but he held them back. The Pharaoh gazed deeply into the boy's scared but determined eyes, his face in a state of shock. His eyes registered the peasant who, once weak, stood up against him. The guards and Siamon waited anxiously for a sound. Finally, after almost forever, the king spoke.

"Be at peace, boy."

Siamon tugged at the boy's clothes. Still shaken up, the boy took the Pharaoh's words and knelt on the ground once more. The king stepped over the last step and sat on his throne.

"We have decided you will defend these lands as one of our soldiers. But do not think ill of us if you do not survive the training"

A great smile grew on the boy's face. He bowed. "A thousand blessings, my King!"

"And a thousand blessings to you, as well. Siamon, you are dismissed."

The visitors bowed once again and stood up, turning to the exit. They walk at a slow, steady pace under the glow of the palace. Upon reaching the sands of the outdoors, Siamon glared at the boy. "Do you have any idea what danger you almost put yourself in?" he demanded. "If I were not there with you, you would have been slaughtered the moment you stood!"

The boy's gaze fell to the ground. "Forgive me, Grandfather," he whispered sadly.

"At least you are now a soldier," the elder sighed. "Even if it were you and your father's wish, you must not defy the Lord in the process. That can only bring the wrath of the Gods upon you. Remember your duty as a soldier and as one of the Pharaoh's men this night."

The elder continued his walk through the sands and to home. Before stepping forward, the boy looked over his shoulder. He lifted his view from the castle to the skies where the full moon hung brilliantly. The boy smiled.

"Thank you."

* * *

The sun beat its ravage heat upon Egypt, painting her peoples with the brutal heat. A vast landscape of sand near the palace was filled with weapons flying and slashing—not through men—but through air. All the men were in the same attire: loincloth and headdress, but their weapons varied. Some held blades, some flying projectiles, some spears, but no one was left with nothing to do. Among them, the boy leaned against his beloved spear as he fell to the ground. The calluses in his fingers burned and his body ached with bruises. A man, aged but powerful, stood tall over him with a spear in his hand. "You call yourself a warrior?" he said. "You are no man of Egypt. Only a lowly rat!"

The boy straightened the headdress atop his shaven scalp. Still gripping the spear, he rose to his feet and caught his breath. Once the man stepped aside, the boy charged forward, held the spear in one hand, and thrust the weapon. It flew, flew, flew…

Only a few feet away from the boy. The man growled and shook his head. "You are nothing."

"All kneel before the Pharaoh!"

The soldiers ceased their training. At the left of the field, four men marched with the handles of a palanquin. The palanquin was beautiful, strong with gold and elaborate designs. Atop the seat of the carrier, the Pharaoh sat in his usual air of confidence. He held up his hand and muttered to his servants, who stopped upon hearing them. The men carefully lowered the handles off of their shoulders gently placing the Pharaoh's moving seat onto the sand. Every soldier across the sands let their knees fall to gravity and bowed, heads deep to the human God. The boy and his teacher followed suit. It was custom for the Pharaoh to pass by the training grounds, but to fully stop by? Respect and confusion was rampant through the soldiers. Though far away, the boy could hear the Pharaoh conversing with the general. Not enough to understand the discussion, unfortunately.

"You! Boy!"

The godly voice echoed on the air. The boy turned his head to see the other confused soldiers who saw him as well, but no one stirred his body. A series of heads nervously looked up to the lord, now standing just a few feet away from the boy. The boy froze. Was he the one the king called? The Pharaoh gestured to him. "Come."

The boy was hesitant. Was this to be his punishment? But surely, he could not worsen his situation by disobeying the king a second time. Gripping his spear, the boy rose to his feet and walked cautiously to the Pharaoh. The Pharaoh registered the boy's image into his mind. "You have changed," he said, gesturing to the other's bruises.

The boy nodded. "Indeed I have, my Pharaoh."

The Pharaoh, on the same ground as the boy, was only a few inches taller. The boy kept his head tilted slightly up to see the other. He could see the royal frown. "Not enough, we can see. You are still weak and still hold your aged weapon."

"I…I cannot leave it be, my Lord," the boy answered. "It is precious to me…"

The Pharaoh paused. He analyzed the old spear in the boy's hands for a few seconds more. He looked over his shoulder. "Mahad, bring to us a sword."

"A—a sword?" the general stuttered. "…my king, what do you—"

The Pharaoh glared. "_We ask for a sword_."

Frozen, the general stood only for a moment before turning to one of his soldiers. He passed a sword to the Pharaoh and stepped back, worried. The soldiers, once bowed, now rose to their feet and backed away from the scene. The boy shook as they did so, but even more when the Pharaoh held the tip of the blade toward him.

Siamon's warning rang through the boy's ears. Was the Pharaoh going to kill him here? If so, why ask him to prepare for battle? The boy could not bring himself to go against his orders. He stepped back and held his spear at the ready.

"Now then," the Pharaoh announced. "Let us see how much you have changed in the last week."

The surrounding soldiers kept their eyes on the match. Without warning, the Pharaoh stepped forward. He yanked the spear away from the boy and butted his back with the sword hilt. The boy fell stomach-first with a thud. Waiting until the boy returned to his original stance, the king returned the aged spear to the soldier-in-training. The Pharaoh stepped forward again, this time elbowing the boy sharply in his chest. He collapsed on his back. The boy's back and front were in pain from the impact, but not more than the shame of knowing he was still the frail child who met the king with his grandfather. He could feel the king's shadow towering over him, mocking him, ridiculing his father's name…

"_Even if it were you and your father's wish, you must not defy the Lord in the process_."

Those words were nothing now.

The boy shot up from the ground. The Pharaoh backed away into his fighting stance, as did the boy. Strength held the boy together, pushing him toward his opponent, his spear ready for blood.

The Pharaoh brought his sword down to attack, but the boy caught the blade in the wooden mid-section of the spear. The pole did not falter against the blade. His hand still holding the hilt, the Pharaoh's arm almost twisted as the boy ducked under his arm and brought the spear back. He thrust the wooden end into the Pharaoh's back. He grunted from the impact and fell. The Pharaoh quickly made it back onto his feet and his sword now free, slashed and stabbed at the boy. The soldier-in-training was swift at dodging the weapon.

The Pharaoh made one last thrust. The boy ducked to his left and, placing the wooden pole diagonally on the royal's wrist, twisted the staff. The Pharaoh's arm fell limp as his elbow bent and his hand curved against his will. Once the pole was below the Pharaoh's wrist, the boy shot it upward. The sword flew from the opponent's hand and onto the sand a few feet away. The Pharaoh only saw his weapon leave his grip.

Now.

The boy tackled the Pharaoh. The royal's back crashed into the sand, scattering grains of gold. The boy knelt over the royal, one hand at his opponent's neck and the other holding the spear at his opponent's face.

A wave of awe and shock overcame the audience. Gasps and hushed whispers sounded through the crowd. The general and the servants rushed into the fray in a rage.

"Be at peace, Mahad," the Pharaoh called out, briefly glancing up to see his followers.

The boy felt his confidence and fierceness leave him when the Pharaoh returned to his original view. The two's faces were separated by merely a foot, but there was much to be revealed in just that distance. The Pharaoh's eyes changed. That condescending face he wore when seeing the boy, it had left him. Those strong lavender eyes were wide with shock. He did not smile, nor did he frown. The boy could feel the glares of his general and the servants upon him, so he dropped his beloved spear. He stood up and stepped away from the defeated king, watching anxiously as the Pharaoh lifted himself onto his feet and brushed his clothes.

"We wish to return to the palace," he shouted. The servants with the order ran back to their abandoned palanquin and hoisted the handles back onto their shoulders. The boy was trapped in the Pharaoh's eyes and his silence. Then, the royal muttered:

"…you have improved."

Once the palanquin appeared, the Pharaoh stepped onto the platform and sat in his usual seat before the servants carried him away. The boy gripped the spear in his hands.

He had grown stronger.

* * *

**Author's Note**: I deeply apologize for the wait. The last week has been quite stressful for me: writing was the last thing on my mind. Now that the stress has died (slightly), I managed to pick up writing again. Didn't expect this chapter to be this long, though...

Before I go on, just know that this is NOT an accurate depiction of Ancient Egypt. I researched the lifestyles of Ancient Egypt and, though I tried to capture some of what I found into this fanfic, this is not a really good source for understanding the old lifestyle (I'm pretty sure the boy would've been killed on the spot for defying the Pharaoh). Despite the horrible inaccuracies, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please leave a review and thank you again! :D


	8. Chapter 7

**_Yu-Gi-Oh! _belongs to its rightful owners. The following is merely fan-made.**

* * *

A full moon shone over the night sands of Egypt, her shy light lulling the land into slumber. One side of the land carried a line of soldiers crossing from one side of the area to the other. The boy looked on to see the familiar stretch of water run through the earth. The sound of the river calmed him. Further down, golden brown walls stood tall and cast a shadow over the silver ground. One by one, the soldiers filed in. The two walls were separate, one ended with a staircase allowing soldiers to stand guard, but were connected by a chamber at the other side. There was no roof, but a set of miniature, gray houses lined the walls. The boy entered through the opening and turned for the stairs. It was his turn to stand guard.

The boy climbed to the top of the wall and leaned against the head a pillar made alongside the wall. He could hear his fellow comrades heading into the barracks for slumber. The tup-tup of footsteps came upon the stairs and went past the boy: three other soldiers for the watch. Time dragged at first, but began to fly now. The boy changed his attention on the ground and the sky in pattern, stroking his treasured spear. He removed his cap as he turned to the moon. The moon was extravagant in the nocturne heavens. The boy closed his eyes momentarily to bask in the silver shine. As his shaven head cooled, his heart warmed at the thought of the moon acting as his guardian. Whenever he was free from training, he would have to make an offering.

The guards froze. Sensing the unease, the boy saw his fellow soldiers turn to the entrance, and he followed suit. All eyes fell on the entrance as a presence shifted behind the wall. Soon the figure appeared in full: the Pharaoh.

He raised a hand. Before the soldiers could bow or announce the king's arrival, they saw his hand and returned to their posts. The boy's heart pounded in his chest and his grip on his spear tightened. Did the Pharaoh come for him?

The royal walked to the boy. "You are relieved of your duty for tonight," he muttered. "We ask for your company. Come."

The boy tensed. The king _did_ come for him. But for what reason? The boy was about to disobey a third time until he caught the Pharaoh's eyes. They were not the purple shade of leadership he once knew. They were still powerful, yes, but there were hints of something else. Sad…unsure, perhaps. Hesitation left the boy and he stepped forward. Alongside the monarch, the boy followed him outside the fort.

Hours slipped away. The sands bore no signs of Man's existence except for the royal and the soldier passing through. The walk was exhausting. The boy could feel grains of sand dig deep into the soles of his feet, making the stroll only more arduous. He gripped the spear even more tightly now from the constant pain in his legs. But even more troublesome was the silence. The boy's mind raced with confusion and uncertainty, and the long-drawn quiet only torment him more. Not a single word was uttered, not even a grunt. He closed his eyes and whispered a soft prayer. "Khonsu…protect us."

_Fwump_.

The boy's eyes fluttered. The Pharaoh lay against the sands, his chest heaving. The sweat on his brow dripped onto the ground. The boy came to him. "My Lord!"

"Mind us not," the king groaned. "We are well."

"We must head back—!"

"No. We press onward."

The monarch staggered onto his feet. He leaned one way to another as he tried to recover. The boy took the king's hand and pushed the spear into his palm. "Use this."

The pharaoh's breath was silent. He gripped the spear. "T—thank you."

With a lean on the spear and an extra step on the sand, the two continued on. It was more of a hindrance for the boy to walk without his "cane", but the Pharaoh was more exhausted than he was. The more he thought on it, the more he realized the results of his training. Though his feet burned, his throat did not thirst, nor did the long walk hinder him as much as the monarch. His heart sank with guilt. If only he could give his strength to the royal.

The quiet between them shattered. "These last two months," the Pharaoh muttered. "Have they held well for you?"

The boy jumped, but answered calmly. "Indeed they have, my Pharaoh. It is always my pleasure to serve you." The boy stopped his pace. "I am sorry."

The Pharaoh did not walk any further. He faced the boy. "For what, may I ask?"

"Our fight. Though my tactics I learned from training, I did not mean any harm to my King." The boy came down to his knees and bowed. "Forgive me."

A cool wind danced over the two. The boy felt the Pharaoh's cold shadow fall upon his bare back, and then—goodness!—a warm hand on his shoulder. "Arise."

The boy looked up and found himself face to face with the monarch, much closer than his last attack in their fight. Remembering his command, the boy rose to his feet. The Pharaoh stood with him. "Worry not, soldier," he said. "Truly, you are a warrior of Egypt."

The skies turned black.

The boy shook. He raised his hands to his stomach. Under his fingers, he felt the familiar pole of his weapon. And a warm liquid.

A kick to his abdomen pushed him down.

A figure kneeled over him.

The flint of the spear stabbed the boy.

_Snap_.

A hand gripped the boy's shoulder.

The stabbing continued.

His face throbbed with each strike.

He reached a quivering hand outward. A warm cheek.

And then nothing.

* * *

Yugi gasped. The black night was now a simple bedroom lit by florescent lights, and the sand below him was now a mattress covered with cotton sheets. He raised his hands to his head. His hair was back. Now to his face. Nary a scratch. Then to his stomach. Nothing.

A knock on the door. "Yugi!"

The young man hid his hands under the covers. "Yes, Mom?"

"It's almost eight. Get out of bed, you need to eat."

"I—I'll be right out."

His mother's footsteps descended the stairs and quieted. Shifting his hands for balance, Yugi felt a wooden stick near his pillow. He looked: the broken spear. The sight of the flint made him shiver. The dried red…

It was blood.

His blood.

The immediate thought forced his arm to toss the weapon aside. Memories of his Egyptian life and the last few days flooded the boy's mind. First the voices, then the scratching, and now this…

Yugi froze.

His killer. Yugi knew who it was. Better yet, where to find him.

But did _he _know?

* * *

**Author's Note**: I'm a little disappointed with this chapter. Don't think I provided much build-up for the end of the memory and the descriptions for it, but I've exhausted myself with this chapter. This is probably the best I could do with this (_sigh_). Thanks for reading and please leave a review or some writing tips! :D


	9. Chapter 8

**_Yu-Gi-Oh!_ belongs to its rightful owners. The following is merely fan-made. Nor do I own the lyrics for Yugi's ringtone: they belong to ShadyVox. **

* * *

_**CHAPTER EIGHT**_

The sun crawled into the heavens, clearing the darkness with golden rays and a young, soft blue. Traffic was minimal as the day awakened, but cars and people exited their homes one by one as the minutes crept away.

Down the road, a weary-eyed Yugi ran toward the museum. He felt the weight of insomnia upon him, but he still had enough energy to push himself onward. In his arms was a gray shoebox held to his chest, crumpling and shifting with each push off of the ground. He forced his legs to carry him up the stairs and to Domino Museum. He tugged at the doors. They were locked. "Oh man," he groaned. "What now?" The sign on the glass door read that the museum would not open for a few more hours.

Yugi lifted the box lid by a few centimeters. The spear laid safe inside, but the sight of it made his blood curdle. The rusty red on the spear tip stood out in the sliver of light that made it into the box. He remembered gripping the spear as his own, back when it was whole; using the weapon with ease…

And being slaughtered by it.

Yugi shut the box before he could remember the pangs in his stomach. The memory was horrible, but he had to focus on his current situation. He committed theft the night before and must return what he stole. Only then did the true emptiness of the museum sink in. Could he just leave the box by the door? But what if someone else were to steal what was inside? Was there a camera by the entrance?

"_Move it!"_

A strong force thrust Yugi to the ground. The impact left small scratches on his left cheek. The pain was unpleasant, but he found some relief in seeing he kept the box closed. The relief turned to horror when he saw the one who shoved him. Towering over the victim was a tall, ruthless giant of a man. A starred and stripped bandana clung tightly over his messy blond hair and his clothes—maroon shirt, black vest, and army boots—were just as tidy. Despite the crucifix hanging around his neck, he was nowhere near charitable as he glared at Yugi with cold, beastly eyes. "What're you lookin' at, shithead?" he growled.

The shorter male stammered, but could not make a sound. His grip around the box tightened as the brute shoved a key into the museum door. _He_ was an employee?

"Are you retarded?" the man shouted. "Get outta here!"

And with that, Yugi was gone.

* * *

_I can hear your screams even in my dreams.  
They stab my heart  
when you let out those awful cries._

Lilac eyes drowsily opened in the late summer sun. Young Yugi awoke in the comfort of his mattress and blanket, kept warm (a bit too toasty) under the light. The nightstand next to his bed held a small blue cell phone bursting into song. The caller ID read "Téa."

_Stay with me,  
I want you to show me the—_

Yugi pressed the "SEND" button. "Hello?"

"Whoa. Yugi, is that you?" Téa chirped on the other end. "You don't sound good…"

The man looked over at the clock and rubbed his eyes. Last night was hell: the sting of his spear haunted his dreams. After his failed attempt to return the spear, he returned home in hopes of getting some sleep. He did: a single, unfulfilling hour of sleep. "I'm fine," he answered. "Just stayed up a bit too late last night." His clock read 1:49 PM.

"It was card games, wasn't it? Anyway, I was wondering if you could hang out at my place today since we don't have class today. Well…that, and we haven't had the usual group hang out for a while. Joey, Tristan, and Yami said they'd come by. Think you can make it?"

Yugi tensed. "Yeah, I'll be there."

"All righty! How about 2:30?"

"2:30, got it. See ya, Téa."

The "END" button beeped, bringing the conversation to a conclusion. After a good stretch, Yugi prepared himself for the hangout.

He and a certain someone needed to talk.

* * *

"Yugi, hey!"

Téa hugged her little friend and led him inside her home. Téa's house was a modest size. Pale yellow walls, pink roofs, it was almost like a dream house. The inside, however, stood on the border between neatness and a pigsty. A jacket or two lay wrinkled on the floor while piles of papers were left unscathed. The living room (where the gang hung out) was medium-sized, a burgundy couch with plump pillows sitting unordered on the cushions. Tristan sat on the floor with a Wii-mote in his hands and an annoyed look on his face. Joey and Yami were in separate chairs divided by a table, sets of cards placed in rows on the surface. Joey jumped from his game and hugged the fourth male to the point of suffocation. "Yuge! It's been _ages_!" he cried happily. "Where the hell've you been?" Tristan rushed to give him a manly, rib-crushing hug. Yugi caught a glimpse of the other behind Joey's shoulder—and all joy fled him. Yami sat still at the table, his eyes followed the other chillingly. The newer visitor could see anger in his eyes…

…and guilt?

Dark skies, sandy air, and a king. His stomach writhed.

"Tristan."

The brown-haired man loosened his grip on Yugi. Behind him, Yami stood with a hand on Tristan's shoulder. "Could I borrow Yugi for a moment?"

"Sure, man."

Once Yugi was free, he followed his lookalike out of the living room. From walking through the hallway to nearing the back of the house, the angry video-game-related swears grew inaudible. Soon the pair reached the staircase and Yami turned around. "Do you have _any_ idea what you did last night?" he muttered. "You could've gotten arrested! I could've lost my _job_!"

The shorter one's eyes grew heavy. His vision grew hazy and Yami's rant turned into a dulled hush. The staircase began to twist and turn as seconds passed.

"day-off…I can take care…give…"

Then darkness came.

* * *

"…you _sure_ you didn't drug 'im?"

"Joey, this isn't a joke!"

Velvet covers and a feather blanket caressed Yugi's skin. Téa held her hand on his forehead while the other men stood at the end of the bed he lay in. He sat up. "What happened?"

"You fell asleep," Yami answered from the other side. "How late did you stay up last night?"

"Well…"

"Don't worry about it," Téa said. "I couldn't get an answer from your grandpa or mom, so feel free to rest here for now, okay?" She stood up and called to the others. "All right, out."

Joey and Tristan were the first to leave and then Téa, who closed the door. Yami stopped inches away from the exit. He did not look at Yugi. "I'm not sure if you heard everything I said, but I can take care of this. Give me the spear and I can put it back in the exhibit without anyone getting suspicious."

"I guess…" Yugi shuffled in the bed to find a comfortable spot and lay himself down. At least his theft would be taken care of.

He shot up. "Wait a minute. How'd you know I took the Pharaoh's spear?"

Yami took a breath. "S-Security cameras."

"You don't have work today."

"…just go to sleep." The doorknob clicked and with a slam, Yami was gone. The boy in the bed lay on the mattress again, the sleepless time beating on his mind.

He knew.

* * *

**Author's Note**: OH MAN, it's been so long! Four months hiatus, that's probably a record...

I am deeply sorry for the long wait. Not only was life getting in the way, but some problems with this story started to get to me. I was actually halfway through writing this chapter when some inconsistencies started beating at me, and I actually considered giving up on this story as a whole. In the end, I figured that regardless of inconsistencies, I can't leave a story (horrible or no) unfinished, especially when it's got a few people supporting it (_nervous laugh_). This isn't the best chapter of this fanfic, but I did my best to finish it. Hope I can finish this without another super-long hiatus.


	10. Chapter 9

**_Yu-Gi-Oh!_ belongs to its rightful owners. The following is merely fan-made. **

* * *

The once dark maroon curtains shone red by the weakened sun. Colored rays of light painted the sheets on the bed, airy gold shifting on ruby fabric. A small hand rose from under the sheets, revealing a frazzled Yugi Mutou. He scratched his head as he regained consciousness. "Where am I…?"

He froze.

His visit to Téa's house, his collapsing in the stairwell, and Yami's knowledge of the spear began to sink in. Yugi glanced at the clock that read 4:53, later groaning and falling back in the bed. His sleep was full of his past life in Egypt, but they were not strong enough to fight his fatigue. Every breath, every touch, and every stab: he remembered it all.

And so did Yami.

The man turned under the sheets. Did Yami really remember as well? If he had not, then he would not have known about the spear. But just how much did he know? And how long? Why did he not tell Yugi? What if he did? Yugi tried to clear his head of these questions, but they tortured him with every tick of the clock. What was he to do now?

_Creak_.

Yugi sat upright, his eyes locked on the door. Strands of brown hair dangled in the crack and were later met with other strands. Soon, Téa's pair of feminine azure eyes appeared, accompanied by a smile. "Yugi?" she called out. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah, I am."

The brunette swung the door open and stepped inside. She strode over to the bed and sat beside the other. "I didn't wake you up, did I? Are you feeling better?"

"You didn't, and I'm feeling much better," Yugi replied. His tone changed. "Is Yami still here?"

"Actually I think he left about…" Téa looked over to the clock. "…half an hour ago? He said he had something to take care of. Is something going on between you two? I'm not sure what he called you for earlier, but he looked worried after that."

Yugi sighed. "It's complicated." His gaze fell on the blanket. There was no way Téa would believe him. Did Yami tell her? Or for that matter, Joey and Tristan? He could find no answers to these questions or the others that barraged him. Only more questions.

A hand touched his shoulder. Yugi found himself close to Téa and gazing into her ocean eyes. "Whatever's going on, don't run from it," she said. "Do what you think is right."

The man was silent. His once-crowded mind began to clear.

With a soft pat on the shoulder, Téa stood up and walked to the door. "Are you going to head out later? And I could drive you back if you need a ride"

Yugi looked over to her with a smile. His thoughts were now clear. "I should probably get going. Thanks, but I can walk myself."

"All right. Let me know if you need anything."

Once Téa left the room, Yugi hopped out of bed and reached into his pocket. The phone in his hand, he looked through his contacts, pressed "SEND" at a certain name, and held the phone to his ear. Three _brrrrrrm_'s rang through the earpiece until a click was heard. "Hello?"

"Meet me in the museum parking lot at 5:30," Yugi muttered. "We need to talk."

Yami's voice shook. "Yugi?"

The "END" button beeped. Folding the blankets as neatly as he could, Yugi prepared himself as he headed for the door.

Time to end this.

* * *

**Author's Note**: I apologize for the short chapter, but I hope it served as good build-up for the next chapter. I will do my best to make it satisfy the tension this chapter made (if it did). Thank you for reading and please leave a review or some tips to help me improve! :D


	11. Chapter 10

**_Yu-Gi-Oh!_ belongs to its rightful owners. The following is merely fan-made. **

* * *

Streaks of orange fell over the city, coating the land in sunset. Parking lots emptied as the streets filled, as did the sidewalks of children returning home and adults leaving work. Young Yugi passed a few pedestrians but he did not look at them. His backpack knocked with its inner contents but he did not hear it. His eyes locked onto what lay ahead of him: the Domino Museum parking lot.

There was a blur. Yugi looked up to see a biker ride through the barely full, concrete ground and toward the nearest bike rack. There was no doubt about who the biker was: Yugi could recognize Yami's hair from a mile away. Once he had dismounted his bike, the shorter male reached for his backpack pocket. His fingers grabbed onto an item and he approached the other.

"Here."

Yugi stood at the left of the other, his hand outstretched towards him. Yami's eyes widened when he spotted the Domino Museum key in Yugi's hand. "Thanks," he said, taking the key back. "Now, I'll put the spear back and we can put all this behind us."

"No."

"…no?"

"I'm not gonna forget about this just yet. I wanted to ask you about some things."

"Yugi, you don't have to worry about it. You don't want to know anym—"

Yami froze. He could feel Yugi's tightening grip on his shirt collar and the fiery, piercing glare. The shorter man's rage rippled through the air, turning the calm summer air into a deadly aura. Yugis' heart throbbed, but not with fear. With anger. "_Tell. Me. Everything_."

Yugi pushed Yami back, letting go of his shirt in the process. The taller man tried to catch his breath before looking back at the other. "…not here."

He mounted his bike. Doing his best to calm down, Yugi stepped onto the bars on the back wheel and placed his hands on Yami's shoulders. The chains clicked and with an extra push, the two were speeding down the road. Buildings and streets zoomed past, as did the sun inching toward the earth. The cold winds that beat against Yugi's face grew colder with each minute. He watched the sky give birth to stars and trees grow in number. Where were they going?

* * *

Only a sliver of the sun remained. Infant stars slept behind a blanket of clouds, allowing soft, silver light to kiss the earth. The wheel of a bike leaning on a tree shone, and the rubber pointed to the clearing where Yugi and Yami stood. The taller one's brow was drenched with sweat, panting from the carrying himself and the other on a bike to this location. A cool wind caressed him, but could not quell his nerves that rose from Yugi's eyes. The shorter one's anger still boiled, and it only heated with the long ride to the woods. There was no patience left within him. He waited for the silence to break, preferably by the other—and it did.

"I found out about a month ago. The artifacts were kept in storage before they were moved into the exhibit. It was my job to clean up there." Yami's eyes fell to the grass. "It was hell."

"You knew," Yugi said. "You knew all this time and didn't tell me, even _after_ I told you about the voices?"

"If I had told you a month ago, you wouldn't have believed me. I didn't want you to find out either way. This is _my_ problem, not yours."

"You killed me."

"Yugi—"

"Why did you do it?"

It was the first time Yugi saw fear in Yami's eyes. He looked away. "It doesn't matter."

"Doesn't matter? _Doesn't matter_? You kill me out of cold blood years ago and say it doesn't matter? How do I know you still want to kill?"

Yugi walked toward the other until there were inches between them. "You haven't changed a bit."

_Thud_.

The shorter man could not breathe. His legs were trapped. When he reached for his throat, he found another pair of hands. A shadow loomed over him and screamed with Yami's voice.

"NEVER compare me to him!" Yami cried. "I am NOT a king! I am NOT a murderer! I am ME!" He tightened his grip on the Yugi's throat. "And you have the GALL to say that I am the same as that bastard!"

The night winds lost their cool. Heat and dizziness began to build. In the chokehold, Yugi felt his life wane. This was it.

The sun set.

Clouds came.

And darkness fell.

"No…no!"

Yugi gasped. He quickly sat up and raised his hands to his neck. No one was on top of him or strangling him. The sound of crushed grass was in front of him and, though pitch-black, he could tell Yami was still close. Scared, hyperventilating…

And distracted.

* * *

The scent of blood filled the air. Even in the darkness, Yugi was aware of the situation. His fists barraged his attacker below him and he could feel the blood on his knuckles.

Something consumed him.

It burned within him, igniting every muscle and memory as he continued. He knew this feeling but at the same time, barely understood it. It was alien yet familiar. Old yet new.

Safe yet dangerous.

Yugi threw one last punch into the shadow below him. As he sat up, a gentle gust of wind blew. He breathed in the metallic air, giving the young man some peace of mind. And yet, the rage burned on.

The shadow sobbed softly. Yugi raised his fist in response, only to find no resistance. Between the sobs, Yami's voice croaked.

"…kill me."

Silence filled the clearing. Without thinking, Yugi slung his backpack off and reached inside the pocket. Instinct forced him to pull out what he held and to hold it in both hands, the sharp end facing down. Grasping the broken spear, he took a breath—and thrust it down.

Light.

Yugi stopped. Through the darkness, rays of motherly light descended upon the grass. He immediately turned around to see the queen of the night take her throne in the sky: the full moon. As the moon sat in the heavens, Yugi could have sworn he heard a woman's voice.

"_Forgive us."_

His moon, his guardian…

His hands shone scarlet. Yugi's face twisted to horror as he spotted splotches of red on his hands and his clothes. He looked down to the one below him—and froze. Yami lay on the ground after Yugi tackled him in the shadows, his face bloody and bruised. His eyelids were a discolored shade of purple, and streams of red flowed from his nose and lip. The broken spear slipped from Yugi's hands and fell on the grass. He pulled himself off of the beaten man and collapsed. "Oh, god…oh, god…"

The moon's words echoed in his head. "_Forgive us_."

Yugi raised his hand to his chest. Forgive…

With his last ounce of strength, Yugi forced himself onto his knees. He crawled across the grass, almost dragging himself after his previous attack. His eyes stayed on the barely conscious man in front of him.

Yami groaned. His eyes groggily opened to see the other's shadow. "…Yugi…?"

The shorter male extended his arms to the other. Upon getting a good hold, Yugi wrapped his arms around the other and held him close. He could feel Yami lift his arms around the other and grasp tightly, crying into his shoulder. Yugi closed his eyes and a single tear fell from his cheek.

_I am me_, he thought.

* * *

**Author's Note**: I really need to stop going on these hiatuses. Writing this chapter was a bit of a challenge: not only was I second-guessing the conflict, I couldn't get the words out right. It took me a while, but I think I managed to finish this chapter decently (maybe not perfectly). Please leave a review or some tips to help me improve!


	12. Epilogue

**_Yu-Gi-Oh!_ belongs to its rightful owners. The following is merely fan-made. **

* * *

The skies were a soft gray. Snowflakes fluttered to the now-blanketed ground, coating Domino in a cool quilt of snow. Streets were busy with tractors and buildings empty of people. Children danced in the cold outdoors, as did rambunctious adolescents. Small, white mountains were shaped on the ground in what looked like walls. Behind one of these icy creations lay a thoroughly bundled Yugi, sweating in an overstuffed blue jacket, and a smiling Téa in a pink coat.

"Okay, you go to the left and I'll go to the right, okay?" the brunette whispered.

Yugi patted his right, gloved hand over a mound of snow. He added the new snowball into the group of five snowballs in his left arm. "Ready when you are."

"All right…go!"

The two immediately darted away from their snow fortress and dashed forward. Up ahead in another fort, Joey chucked snowballs to both the brunette and the boy. Unfortunately for him, the opposing team was quick. A snowball barely grazed Yugi's leg and before he knew it, he had a clear path to the enemy base. He grasped the perfect snowball and raised his arm.

Yami rose from the wall.

The two froze. Yugi stood still with his arm held high while Yami, clad in a black jacket and hat, knelt on the ground. Their wonderland and battlefield vanished, their eyes connected. Yugi opened his mouth. "Hey—"

_Biff._

Yugi heard Téa shriek with laughter. Yami stood up from behind his fort, the right side of his face caked with snow. "You are so _dead_!" he laughed, leaping over the fort towards the brunette. Yugi could not help but snicker at the spectacle before him; he let out a booming guffaw when Téa slid over some ice and Yami fell on his behind. Try as he might, however, a question lingered in his mind. The one question that remained unanswered, the one that came from fear and curiosity…

He looked over to his right. He caught Joey and Tristan just in time, the two armed with snowballs. Joey chuckled nervously. "…mercy?"

Yugi smirked. He smashed the snowball right into Joey's forehead, smacking Tristan with another. The three began their own battle, thrashing snowballs at one another while the other pair ran around them. Never was there an epic, winter battle.

* * *

With the fields in white disarray, no soul was left to play under the darkening skies. Electric lights lit up rows of glass windows and cast a yellow glow onto the snow…and a jacket? The navy blue arms waved, digging into the ice, followed by legs in thick, tan pants. Flakes and mounds of snow built on Yugi's tri-colored hair. He gazed upward, but he did not see the cloudless gray.

He saw something else.

"I think the angel looks good enough."

Yami was upside-down. Quickly, Yugi hopped onto his feet, wiping the snow off his jacket. His friend was right-side-up again. "What brings you here?" Yugi asked.

"You've been out here for a while, and your grandpa was getting worried," Yami answered. "Also…" He took two, slow steps forward to the other. "I think you wanted to tell me something during the snowball fight."

"Actually, yeah. I was wondering about what happened a few months ago."

"Don't worry about it. The worst I got was a broken nose, and that healed pretty quickly."

"Not that. It's just…" Yugi scratched the back of his neck and took a breath. "I had this weird dream."

"During that time?"

"Yes, but it was different. Very different." He groaned. "I think it might relate to why yo—the Pharaoh did what he did."

"What was the dream?"

Yugi could not bring himself to speak. The dream, random but during the incident, played in his head. The moment Yami's lips brushed his...he shook the image out. "Did the pharaoh do it…" Yugi asked. "…because of love?"

"_No!"_

The word bounced off the game shop. Yami caught himself, his face rosy red. "I mean…it was something else."

"Something else?"

"The servant beat the Pharaoh in a fight, right? And when someone at the top of society is defeated by someone in the lower class—"

Yugi nodded. "He was humiliated."

"Yes, that was it. Now come on: it's getting chilly."

With that, Yami wrapped an arm around Yugi and led him to the shop doors. He reached for the handle and swung it open, the bell ringing with the swing. "You don't mind if I ask something?" he said suddenly. "Just two questions."

"Sure."

"Did your dream involve…us, somehow?"

The man in the blue jacket paused. "Next question."

Yami blushed. "…did you like it?"

_Shoomp._

_Tip-tup-tip-tup_.

Joey looked over the living room couch. "Hey, Yuge! We started thinking you became a snowman!"

"I wasn't out _that_ long," Yugi chuckled.

"Of course you were." Téa hopped onto the couch and stretched a finger at Yugi's nose. "I think I see a carrot growing here…and what snowman wears boots?"

"Hey!"

The room burst into loud, glorious laughter. Yugi glanced down to see wet, boot-prints on the rug following him. As he kicked off his boots, he noticed a black jacket appear beside him. He looked up to see Yami walk into the living room, his black hat shoved over his eyes. "Did I miss anything?"

"Not really," Tristan called out. "Just don't go forward."

Yugi felt a twinge of guilt when Yami bumped into the couch. He threw his hat off. "You planned that!" he laughed.

A series of snickers sounded once again. Yugi wrestled the jacket off of himself and, joining his group, sat on the floor. He looked over and watched Yami unzip his jacket. Those slender fingers, those big hands, those soft lips…

Yugi shook himself. "Anyone in the mood for Smash Brothers?"

"Aww, hell yeah!" Joey snatched the nearest controller. Witty banter and teases were thrown from person to person as Yugi turned on the Wii.

A picture frame flashed.

The boy noticed the photo sitting on the TV shelf. A photo of a full moon, spherical and silver, sat there, taken by his mother long ago.

He smiled. "I'll see you again."

* * *

**Author's Note**: FINALLY, it's done! Can't believe I managed to finish this fanfic. This isn't my best work, but I did my best to get all the words out. Thank you very much for reading!


End file.
